I pull the drinks out from the plastic bag and settle them in the esky. The ice is already pooling, more slush than hard squares. I scoop some pieces into a large plastic cup and pour white wine over the top. I’ve been thinking about drinking wine all day.
After speaking to Maggie, I raced back to check-in before rushing home to get Ben ready to stay at Dad’s. The uniforms have made their way through about thirty follow-up interviews with the kids who went to Jamie’s party. Rodney and Kai were definitely both seen there, and a few people claim to remember Kai going to get some more booze but don’t remember what time he left or when he came back. Like Maggie, a few of the girls can remember seeing Kai at around 11.30 pm. One guy swears he saw Rodney when he got there at eleven. Several others say they spoke to him just before midnight but half of the kids were wasted by the time they turned up and the stories changed with their attempts to remember. It doesn’t leave us with much to be sure about.
Another headache is rearing and a small but mighty blister is making itself known on my foot. I drink more wine and survey the yard. There are maybe twenty people here already. A modest, albeit stubborn, fire burns in one of those raised barbecue bowls to the left of the house, but most people are standing around a large kiddie pool, which is filled with more drinks and two goofy-looking blow-up Santas. The talk and laughter sounds like a hive of bees. A girl, I think her name is Jennifer, makes a shocked face and slaps Greg Samuels on the arm. ‘No, no! Greg, that’s so not true!’
I know most of these people, but only vaguely; they are mainly Scott’s friends, and when I try to piece their lives together the details blur into a word cloud of facts. Married, single, sleazy, smart, rich. Renovating, travelling, baking, studying. The energy required to make small talk with them feels impossible to summon.
‘Hey, Gemma.’ Doug’s face bobs into my view as he grabs a beer, cracking it open and taking a swig in one swift movement. He’s wearing a soft furry reindeer headband and a t-shirt with Santa on a surfboard being pulled along by Rudolph.
I take another sip of my wine.
‘Hi, Doug,’ I say.
‘How are you?’
‘Pretty good. How are you? How’s Tyson? He was in prep this year, right?’
‘Yep. He finishes this week, a year already. And little Phoebe is already two, you know. I guess what they say is true: they grow up crazy fast. I mean, you know what I’m talking about. With Ben.’
I nod and try to think of something else to say. ‘How’s the house coming along?’
‘It’s really great. Heaps more space and we put in a spa, which is cool. Trying to save some money now, so I’m gonna do the rest of the painting myself. That’s the big summer task. I keep saying to Jules, “That’s what I’ll be doing this summer,” and I don’t mind because I’ll be able to listen to the cricket at the same time.’
‘Sounds great.’
I see Julia, Doug’s wife, walking over to us. She grabs his hand and ducks her head into his chest. ‘Hi, Gemma.’
‘Hey.’
My cup is empty so I pour some more wine and gesture to Jules. ‘Want some?’
She shakes her head shyly and rubs at her stomach. ‘Can’t.’
‘You’re pregnant?’
‘Uh-huh.’ Doug kisses the top of her head.
‘Oh, wow, that’s great. Congratulations.’
‘Thanks.’ They stand there beaming at me as if they’ve just been awarded a Nobel Peace Prize.
‘Great,’ I say again dumbly, tipping back more wine.
‘I would have thought you’d be pregnant again by now, Gemma.’
‘Jules, c’mon,’ Doug whispers.
She ignores him. ‘Well, I did. Ben is what … two, three?’
‘Two and a half.’
‘See? That’s around the best age. Nice for them to have a sibling to look after.’
‘Maybe.’
Julia rubs at her stomach again. ‘I guess you are pretty busy with work. Must be so hard doing that and then going home to a family. I can’t imagine.’ The way she says it makes it clear that she wouldn’t want to imagine.
‘This murdered teacher thing seems pretty weird.’ Doug leans forward, his breath in my face. ‘I heard she was mixed up in this online devil worship group, which makes sense—she had those crazy eyes. Beautiful, but crazy all the same. Is that true?’
For a second I think he is asking me whether her eyes are beautiful and I can’t think of what to say. They both stare at me. Julia’s head is tilted to the side, a patient look on her face, and I guess that must be how she looks at her children. Are you perhaps a little bit tired, darling? I think it might be time for a little nap. Now tell me about this online devil worship.
‘Oh, you mean the devil stuff? No, that’s not something that we are investigating. Honestly, it hasn’t come up.’
‘Weird. That’s what I heard yesterday. But she must have been mixed up with something suss. I mean, that kind of thing doesn’t happen to just anyone.’ Doug’s face is troubled, as if he’s trying to work out how something so unfortunate might happen without you directly orchestrating it. The wine laps around the edges of my thoughts. Julia and Doug look like they are peering at me down the wrong end of a telescope.
‘I can’t really talk about it, but we’re looking into a few scenarios at the moment. There are lots of things that don’t add up just yet.’
I know they want to ask more questions, so I busy myself with pouring wine, hoping that one of us will think of something else to talk about.
‘Hey, guys.’ Scott appears next to me. He is dressed as a snowflake, all in white. He flexes his stocky legs as he leans down to scratch his foot. ‘Fucking mosquitos. I’m getting smashed already.’
I smile at him and I notice his eyes drift from my glass to the half-empty bottle of wine at my feet.
‘Jules and Doug are having another baby.’
He smiles at them and then says to me, ‘Yes, I know. I thought I told you that.’
My cheeks flare in a flush. ‘No, definitely not. You didn’t.’
Julia looks concerned at the possibility that her baby didn’t make the nightly news in our house. Doug waves the topic away. ‘No stress. It’s the third one—it’s going to start getting hard to keep track!’
Julia gives him a look. ‘I’m going to get some water.’
‘Hey, people.’ Murray Evans joins our semi-circle with Paul James and Fox in tow. Fox looks at me so intensely that I find myself looking away and tugging at the hem of my dress. I see Fox rarely these days, but when I do it’s always as if my body shuts down, so closely is he linked in my head to the time in my life when everything went wrong.
‘Hey, guys! Merry Christmas.’ Scott slaps each of them on the back in turn and they exchange energetic handshakes.
Fox looks drunk already, but then I rarely see him sober. His eyes are wide set, giving him a slightly alien resting face. His upper body sways in a circle as his feet stay rooted to the spot. Murray slaps him on the back, grinning. Murray went to school with Scott. They share a birthday, and Murray’s little boy Simon is the same age as Ben. I know Murray cares a great deal about Scott. He’s always been wary of me.
Paul James gives me a quick kiss on the cheek. ‘You look great, Gemma. Merry Christmas.’